The Heist

AN: Hey guys! Thank you so much for everyone who reviewed the last chapter! Because I got a lot, I will be able to start working on the next chapter as soon as possible.

ChrissySan: Hey sorry for the long wait! Here's the next chapter! I'm glad you're liking the story so far. Here's Operation Greed 3.0 for you! (And your grammar and spelling are not too bad. English is not my native language as well, so hi-five!)

HappyAnt21: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you're liking this AU. And no, you don't sound too professional, so no worries!

"Youswell is a strange place for big things to happen," Lan Fan noted, as she shrugged on the new leather jacket that Ling gave her. The Yao province was a little lower than Amestris in terms of latitude, and so despite the deepening autumn, the weather had been mild. It wouldn't be like that once they crossed the border back to Amestris.

And seeing that she hadn't brought any additional clothes with her – not that she had a choice when she was abducted – it was up to Ling's charitable nature to buy her what she needed. Her profuse thanks were met with a broad grin and a cheeky remark about being his wife (at least on paper) and that he had a husbandly duty to take care of her.

"Youswell has mines, and lots of it," Ling answered. "I don't think it's strange at all. Have you never seen action horror movies? The ones with caves and dark spooky places, where a claustrophobic would lose all of their wits?"

Lan Fan acceded the point. She just didn't think it would be where Henry Chu would make his move. But then again, there was nothing predictable about the man.

Even now, just three days before the dreaded signing of the free-trade agreement, none of them knew exactly what the Xingese loan-shark was planning. The only thing they discovered was Chu's intentions on intercepting President Grumman's meeting with the Xingese Ambassador in Youswell. They had Ridel LeCoulte to thank for that. His sophisticated bit of software at least helped in determining a crucial point in Chu's plans, even if it failed to provide a reliable prediction about the rest of his endeavours.

Mámù was of no help either. Brought to the brink of her life by some of Shàngwǔ's best interrogators, it seemed true that the woman new nothing else about what her master intended to do. All she kept reiterating was that Chu believed the policy would destroy the Chu clan. Despite herself, Lan Fan felt pity for Mámù, and convinced Shàngwǔ that it was not worth questioning her further.

"How is Auto-Mail handling things?" Lan Fan asked.

"Winry assured me that the collaterals are on lock. They can't make any moves yet, but when they get a signal, they are in a good position for a release," Ling answered. He shoved several documents and his laptop into his backpack. Their plane ride back to Amestris was tonight. They were riding on a red-eye. But by the time they get there, supposing nothing went wrong with her passport, the remaining two days would be chaotic with the organizing and coordinating.

Just thinking about it made Lan Fan's heart skip a beat with anxiety. It reminded her of their preparation for Operation Greed 2.0. To say that Operation Greed 3.0 was bigger than the previous one was a serious understatement. This one was huge. If they failed, it could ruin the lives of millions of people across two countries. Even when they were well-prepared for OG 2.0, things still went awry. How well could they execute a plan that hinged halfway on so many unknowns?

To make up for their lack of knowledge about Henry Chu's machinations, Ling came up with a comprehensive plot involving once again Auto-Mail and a fraction of the Amestrian state militants that were sympathetic to their cause. It was a huge, risky move. Ling wanted their side to be prepared for anything; since they did not know what the man had up his sleeves, the only way to stop him would be to persuade him to abort his plans.

And the only way they could do that was if they had a massive incentive. A deal-breaker that Chu would never be able to ignore.

When she first heard of Ling's plan, she wasn't sure they would be able to pull off such a gigantic move. She doubted that they would have the resources to implement it, but Ling didn't back down. He urged Auto-Mail and their acquaintances in the Amestrian State Military to do everything they could to prepare for the operation. He didn't believe that he could aim for a small-scaled project and hope it would turn out differently than the last two times.

"Hey," Lan Fan felt Ling's warm hand grip her shoulder comfortingly. "I know my plans have a habit of not working out, but I assure you that this time I'm not going to let my friends get hurt." His eyes searched hers, and Lan Fan immediately knew what he was imploring.

"And I promise that I will not do anything behind your backs anymore," Lan Fan stated with as much conviction as she could. They deserved that much. After trusting her to be part of the operation again, it was the least she could do. Her utmost loyalty was the very least she could give. "I won't let my choices harm you and your friends again."

He smiled at her, lifting a hand to play with the fringe of hair that framed her right cheek. "That's good to know," he said as he leaned in to embrace her. It was one of his typical strong, warm hugs, and Lan Fan had gotten used to the feeling by now not to clam up and shy away. Instead, she slung her arm around his, allowing herself to savour one of the things she'd truly come to enjoy in their friendship.

"Mmh, sometimes I wish I had my other arm," she said against his ear. "Then it would be a real hug."

He gave her a slight squeeze. "I don't know what you're talking about. This is perfect."

-o-

Winry woke up to a warm weight falling gently on her shoulders. The fluorescent light from the lamp on her desk brightened her view, and an ache at the back of her neck jolted her into full, clear consciousness.

"It's getting cold, so I uhm... thought you'd need a blanket," Edward explained from behind her. Winry straightened and rubbed her eyes.

"You're still here?" she mumbled, as she stifled a yawn. "I thought you'd be spending the night back at your mother's, with Al."

Ed shrugged. "We're going out to Resembool early tomorrow morning anyway. We might as well go together. Alphonse would be stationed at Central during the operation."

Winry shook her head sadly. "I'm surprised Izumi hasn't complained yet about me for stealing so much of your time from home."

Ed leaned against her desk. "Please! If she wanted me to stay home more often she shouldn't always be roughing me up!"

"You know she worries about you, right? She only wants you to be safe."

"Yes, I know that," Ed sighed, deflating. "Which is why I know she's got nothing against you. She knows you take good care of me."

Winry looked up, and found Ed averting his gaze from her, cheeks ruddy. She rolled her eyes, stood up from her chair, and leaned against him to kiss him on the cheek.

"Sometimes I forget you're actually capable of saying something sweet."

His blush deepened, but he didn't shrug her off.

"Everything ready for the big day?" he asked instead.

"Everything is as ready as they can be. Except for me, perhaps."

He laced his fingers with hers. "Don't worry. If anything happens, it'll be Ling's head on a pike."

Winry chuckled, but it didn't actually make her feel better.

-o-

Riza sat languidly at her desk, eyes tracking the inked words on the documents, but she was unable to absorb what they said. It didn't matter. She'd read their plans many times over, had them memorized for the Colonel and the rest of the team. Still, the nagging whisper of worry blocked the lullaby of sleep, and she could do nothing but stare at the pages, hoping to see something that would set her at ease.

Black Hayate purred by her leg, snuggling against her sweatpants. Riza sighed, and picked up the small puppy, cradling him in her arms.

She and her grandfather had never been too close. They were estranged, but it didn't prevent her from feeling something akin to worry, for reasons other than political ones. There was a good chance that if they played their cards wrong in the upcoming operation, President Grumman might die. The Colonel assured her that they wouldn't let it come to that.

"It will be okay," she whispered to herself, knowing full well that her apprehension would never make things better. Absentmindedly, she flipped through the pages, and found the section for her role. She paused, eyes roaming over the words she now knew by heart.

The ring of her phone startled her from her nebulous thoughts, and she picked it up knowing exactly who would call her this time of the night.

"Colonel," she replied, instead of the usual 'hello'.

"I knew you'd still be up by this hour," he said, chuckling a little. "Now Lieutenant, why don't you switch off the lights, put down the dog, and get into your bed? That's an order."

"Yes, sir," Riza answered, but did none of those things. "Though I'd have to point out that none of those are remedies to insomnia."

"Well, technically I didn't ask you to sleep. I also didn't ask you to hang up the phone."

Riza smiled.

"How about it, Lieutenant?"

She sighed, but finally stood up and began to do what he'd asked. "Consider it done, sir."

-o-

Three Days Later

At 8:30 am, the President would be checking out of the Rejo Hotel three miles from the mining town of Youswell, where he spent the past week finalizing the necessary material for the meeting with the Xingese Ambassador. The designated meeting place was in the Liang province of Xing. Henry Chu came to the hotel to intercept the President under the guise of delivering a present from the Xingese Ambassador. Beside his seat in the car lay a heavy container the size of a shoe box that contained absolutely nothing of consequence. But it was decorated with the official insignia of Xing, and engraved with a forgery of the ambassador's signature. Henry even donned on a Xingese-style modern suit, something that he rarely wore.

"What about the human cargo?" Henry asked the driver, just as they turned to an empty space in between two fine, shiny vehicles.

"Both arrived safely past midnight," the driver answered. "Just as planned."

It better be. Henry was getting a little tired of all the impediments to his plans these past few weeks. It would be quite nice if something started going his way. He grabbed the velvet box beside him, and made his way with the driver to the lobby of Rejo Hotel.

Checking in was a breeze. All it took were the right names, details and co-words for them to allow Henry access to the highest floor of the hotel. There were guards assigned to him who led the way to the president's suite, but he was certain that he would have no problem persuading the President to dismiss those burly brutes when the need would arise. He wasn't here to harm the President. He was here to do what he did best: make a deal.

One of the guards knocked on the door, and they waited for Grumman's approval before the heavy set doors opened before them. Henry stepped through the threshold, and observed the busy buzzing of the old man as he packed away his belongings.

"I do apologize for the haphazard way I'm greeting an emissary from Xing," Grumman croaked out, fighting with a stubborn something or other in his luggage, which occupied the heavy wooden table that was supposed to serve as an office desk. "I promise that this is not the way Ambassador Guang will see me."

"That is quite alright, sir," Henry said with an oily stir in his voice that caused Grumman to look up momentarily from his bag.

"Now, aren't you a familiar face?" Grumman said as he straightened up and adjusted the spectacles sitting on the bridge of his nose. "Something tells me that's not a gilded pen set in that pretty box you got there."

Henry smiled, feeling the guards on either side of him tense. They both reached for the weapons by their belts, but Henry didn't waver.

"I passed the security check thoroughly, Mr. President," Henry said. "I'm not loaded. It would be unfair for you to meet an unarmed man with such hostility, don't you think?"

Grumman stared at him for a few moments, before nodding.

"Fair enough. What is it that you want?" Grumman asked.

"A little private chat," Henry answered, and it didn't take the old man too long to understand what was being asked of him. With a nod of his head, he sent the two guards out of the room, although their hesitance was evident on their faces and movements.

"If you've come here to bait me into a contract with you, this is some ill timing," President Grumman said. "I'm not short on cash just yet, and I'm just on my way to a very important meeting with the Ambassador of Trade from Xing. Though from what I assume is your 'disguise,' I have a hunch that you knew about that already."

"Pretty perceptive," Henry stated. "And don't you worry. I'm not here to negotiate a contract. At least, not the kind where I loan you money."

"Get on with it," Grumman waved a hand. "You know I don't like dramatics."

"Alright," Henry said, stepping over to one of the single-seat sofas. He sat down and tossed the box aside. "I know the purpose of your meeting with the Ambassador. We all know that the Amestrian economy has been in shambles since the coup d'etat. The poverty and unemployment rates have sky-rocketed in the years since, and your citizens run amok in the black markets. A free-trade agreement with Xing will create more demand for Amestrian goods and services, which will increase employment rates across the country. Moreover, cheap Xingese produce would enter the borders without any tariffs, providing an inexpensive alternative to some of the people's basic needs."

"Yes, yes," Grumman waved his hand again. "I know all this. It is exactly why the government has agreed to pursue a Free Trade Agreement in the first place."

"I just want to assure you that I can see the allure of this agreement very clearly. That said, I want you to reject it."

He paused to allow Grumman some time to let his words sink in. He knew that the President had been in some intense and productive negotiations over the last few months to come to an agreement over what the free-trade entailed. Henry took some pleasure in knowing how much of that planning was now amounting to moot. Carefully assessing Grumman's expression, he watched as the president's eyebrows shot up disbelievingly on his forehead, so much so that Henry almost ruined the moment by laughing.

After a few moments of befuddled silence, Grumman cleared his throat.

"I don't believe I heard that right," the old man commented. "Let me get this straight. It appeared as if you were asking me to forego the policy even if it is what this country needs to catapult itself out of the economic disaster of the coup d'etat?"

"That's the idea," Henry nodded.

Grumman burst out laughing, and Henry decided to play along and laugh. After all, if there was one of them who would eventually realize this was no laughing matter, it would be Grumman.

"I'm surprised, Mr. Chu," he said. "Wouldn't you want the Amestrian economy to recover? I mean, I don't know about you, but your business kind of depends upon it."

"Don't you worry about XYZ Ltd., Mr. President. My business is my own, after all. I have full control over it," Henry answered. "There is one thing, however, that is not. The Chu clan lives at the mercy of the remnants of Xingese tradition. For generations, the country's childish contempt for my clan was restrained by the efforts of the Xingese emperors to ensure the survival of each Family. Now that the 50 Families system has been disestablished, this contempt is now resurfacing in various ways including the pilfering of our ancestral lands and the eradication of our culture – which wouldn't be so bad if we didn't continue to be ostracized even when we ingratiated ourselves.

"I'll tell you what would happen when you sign the Free Trade Agreement, President Grumman," Henry continued. "The Chu clan would be forced out of their homelands, their forests auctioned away to the most competitive businesses – Xingese and Amestrian. Without the ownership of their lands, many would be forced to encroach on the territories of neighbouring clans, where they would be subjected to the lowest, most undesirable ways of life. The dispersion and subjugation would end my clan as I know it."

Grumman shrugged. "The Chu clan has a population of less than 2,000. You would prioritize them over the millions who need help in both Amestris and Xing?"

"I'm a businessman, not a politician."

"And I suppose that means you came here to bargain," Grumman said, stroking his beard.

Henry smiled, and pulled out a small 1 Terabyte hard drive from his bag, and extended it towards Grumman.

"We both know that the black-markets have infested the underground districts of the entire country this past few years. I've been collecting vital information on many of the largest network, from their most influential leaders to their operational strategies. I've compiled some teaser data in here. You can have it, and do with the information as you want. And if you want the rest, decline the Free Trade policy."

Grumman took the black box and inspected it in his hands. For someone who had just received a key to untangling his economy from leeches, Grumman looked underwhelmed. Henry let the observation slide, knowing that his biggest offer was still to come.

"I'm not convinced," Grumman said. "With better incentives and opportunities provided by the Free Trade, many of the people involved in the black-markets will exit them anyway."

"Fair enough," Henry answered. "If crucial black-market data is not enough for you, how about stopping a war?"

Hearing this, Grumman looked slightly taken aback.

"You don't mean the Aerugan war, do you? That has already ended. We're just drafting the final version of the treaty."

"No, I don't mean that war. Another war. A potential one, if you do happen to ignore my advice and sign the agreement with the Xingese Trade Ambassador."

Grumman studied him for several long moments. Finally, he said, "You plan to start a war? As blackmail?"

"Somewhere in Xing right now, there are four caravans of Amestrians. Due to... unfortunate circumstances, these Amestrians have found themselves ill with the Cretan plague, then boarded onto tight, uncomfortable trucks, driven across the continent to unknown parts in Xing where they would be released tonight. I doubt the Xingese officials would find these infectious loiterers very flattering, especially since you had sweet-talked them so efficiently into an economic alliance.

"But when they find the hoard of contagious Amestrians wandering their lands, I assure you that the Xingese government will not be amused. Take my word for it, Mr. President. They will accuse you of starting biological warfare, and is Amestris really ready for that? You're already crippled from the Aerugan war and Bradley's disastrous reign."

Grumman snorted. "Why don't I just have you captured now, and force a confession out of you so that Xing will know who the culprit really is? I'm sure they'll be ecstatic to find their dethroned prince risking the lives of his fellow citizens."

"Because if my men don't hear from me personally by the end of the day, the infected Amestrians would be released by default."

It was then that Grumman's face darkened, and when he spoke next, vehemence was evident in his voice. "How about I send you to the interrogation centre right this moment, where you will tell me exactly where those caravans are, and I can have you sentenced for war conspiracy and attempted mass murder?"

"I don't know where they are. Honestly. You can torture me till the end of the month, and I would not have a single piece of information for you. My men were specifically instructed to find a place that suits them. How about you just agree to my request, and I can stop the release of the human weapons and provide you with the cure for them?" Henry countered. When Grumman frowned, he added, "Yes, a cure. A real cure for the Cretan plague. You can cure the Amestrians in the caravans, you can cure those who would get infected by accident during the rescue, you can even cure yourself. I can give this medicine to you, but only if you avoid signing the agreement."

Realization dawned on Grumman's face. "The Red Stone!" Then his wide eyes narrowed into angry slits and his wrinkly face reddened with indignation. "You mean to say that you have purposely infected those people, knowing that you can lord the cure over my head? You are sick, Chu! This is sick!"

"I'm not sick," Henry shrugged. "And if you choose wisely, your people no longer need to be sick either. Only I can provide you with the Red Stones, and you know that. Nobody else knows how to make it. Nobody knows where I've hidden my stash, and even if they did, nobody would willingly go there."

Grumman fumed wordlessly, staring at him with heated eyes. The luggage was now long forgotten, his countdown to the meeting now ignored. After a long stretch of silence, he looked away, out through the window of his hotel room. Then, having seemingly made up his mind, he turned back around to Henry and said in a firm voice.

"I'll make you a counter-offer."

Henry raised an eyebrow. He knew that Grumman might want to bargain, but he was amused that the president had something valuable enough to counter the conditions that Henry gave.

"I will sign the Free Trade policy," Grumman stated in a steady voice. "Unfortunately, you wouldn't have a say in that, so I just want to lay down that fact. But here's the deal. You order your men to drive those caravans back into the country and to the Amestrian Quarantine Facility. Then you will give me the Red Stones. In exchange, I will not destroy XYZ Ltd."

Henry paused. It was not the first time someone had threatened to bring down his company, and really, he heard the threat often enough that he usually just brushed it off and laughed at it. But President Grumman had just been threatened with the murder of his people and the risk of war; he would not brandish this familiar comeback if he knew it didn't have any weight.

"I received access to the collaterals of one hundred of your biggest clients, and I only have to give my word for these collaterals to be released back to them. Without the collateral, they are no longer obligated to pay back their loans. To ensure you don't do something stupid, I will also issue warrants to annul your contract with them. You know that I can do it. The government has grounds to nullify your contracts, considering the kind of seedy things you ask for. The only reason we had not officially criminalized your business is because there are those in the government who find you useful."

"Strange words, considering you were one of them only a few years ago when you wanted to put your senile rump on the highest seat in the office," Henry shot back.

"Well, I suppose you want me to thank you for not siding with the faction that would destroy this country," Grumman said. "But my gratitude does not take the form of turning the other cheek."

"Only when it's convenient, right?"

"Only when it's the lesser evil, and let me tell you, Henry Chu. The list of evils lesser than you is growing longer every day." Grumman continued his tirade, "You know that your biggest clients are whales, and you rely on them for a steady flow of profit. Without them and their obligations, your company would suffer inexplicably. Now you're the one who can make a choice here: try to start a war and lose the majority of the money you need to help your own clan amidst the chaos you create; or you can forgo the war, accept the free-trade policy and continue to have the means to help your clan should they need it."

Henry narrowed his eyes. This seemed all too convenient. How could Grumman have prepared this kind of rebuttal when he'd just heard Henry's offer? Unless he'd known about Henry's plans? But that couldn't be... if the President had heard about the Amestrians exposed to the plague, he would have come up with a more strategic plan than just making grabs for Henry's collaterals. He would have tried to save his people and prevented them from going out of the border. And besides, Grumman seemed genuinely upset upon hearing the news of the human cargo.

"You're bluffing," Henry confidently concluded.

"Am I?" Grumman walked behind the table, and opened up the drawer and pulled out a small leather box. He opened it and showed Henry the content.

"This is the master key to the multimillion sens home of the CEO of Amestris HydroPower Corporation. It was the collateral you two had agreed upon when his company was going under, and you decided to play the hero. I can gladly return this to him and I know he would welcome it back."

Henry tried not to frown. It could be a forgery. Keys were easy to copy. Henry had kept the master key in one of the safest storages he used to keep his collaterals. And as far as he knew, his storages were all in order.

"I know what you're thinking," Grumman said. "That this is not the real one." From the drawer, he pulled out a second item, a picture of a young family. The date at the corner of the photograph was set to the previous day, the timestamp indicating that the picture had been taken almost at midnight. The mother and father were embracing a young boy.

"Do you remember the Lee family? The father is a scientist, and his research project is important to the institution he works for. But they didn't have enough funds so they came to you. You had collected his house, his car and almost everything else he owned as collaterals over the years. A few months ago, when they needed just a bit more funding to push them over the finishing line of the project, he didn't have any other asset to collateralize so you took his son.

"I sent the young boy back to his parents last night. I told them not to worry about the money. How much was it again? Pushing two hundred million sens, wasn't it? Fueling innovations in engineering isn't a cheap venture after all."

Henry stared at the photograph, trying to wrap his head around the angle that Grumman was taking. "Why would you release my collaterals?" he demanded.

"I've only done so to a couple," Grumman admitted. "But did you honestly expect me to be a sitting duck when you decided to corner me? I needed leverage."

So Grumman had known that Henry would approach him today. Henry could almost laugh. It was quite smart in a way. "How did you manage to do it, Grumman? Those collaterals are monitored very, very closely."

"Well, as much as I'd like to take credit for this brilliant plan, I do have my humility to think about. It wasn't me, you see."

From the side of the room that led to the bed chamber, the door slid open. Upon seeing the person who came out, Henry recognized immediately the tell-tale signatures written across Grumman's threat.

"Ling," Henry said. "I should have known."

-o-

"Well, well, this is the closest you've gotten, haven't you, my son?" Ling's father asked, his tense posture melting into nonchalance. "I didn't think you'd involve the president in your little game, which makes me think you're actually learning from your previous mistakes. Let's be honest. Your first two attempts didn't exactly get you anywhere."

Ling never intended for his plans to involve the President of Amestris. His little schemes had always been exactly that – little. He had always aimed for something small and powerful, hoping that a tiny crack in his father's empire would bring the entire thing down. But in hindsight, perhaps that was exactly the reason why he'd never succeeded before. His moves were just too insignificant.

As a matter of fact, if Auto-Mail hadn't discovered that President Grumman would be a lynchpin in his father's plans, Ling doubted he would have involved the president on purpose.

Ling squared his shoulders. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his father face-to-face. If anything, his abhorrence for the man caused Ling to frown upon his memories with distaste, resenting the fact that they were related. Ling counted it as his good fortune that he'd been too young when his father decided to leave his mother; he didn't know what kind of twisted person he would be had his father stayed long enough to influence him, or what kind of suffering he and his mother would have to further endure if Chu didn't leave as early as he did.

Most of his spy work and his last two operations didn't involve actually meeting Chu. Yet now, here they were, and Ling had to muster all his strength to bear the anger, frustration and fear that Chu was evoking. Here was the man who put Lan Fan and Fu through weeks of torture. The thought of it still made Ling ill. And it wasn't just Lan Fan and her grandfather; she'd said there had been many victims. And now, this same man had forced truckloads of humans to be fatal weapons as a bargaining chip.

Ling inhaled deeply, and when he let his breath go, his voice was steady. "Take Grumman's deal, Henry Chu."

His father stared back at him, his face calm and calculating. He slid his hands into his pockets and paced the room quietly, almost as if he owned the place.

"I don't know why it's so difficult for you to make up your mind," Ling continued. "The release of those one hundred collaterals would cripple you. If you really cared so much about the Chu clan, why start a war when you know you risk harming them too?"

"I'm not convinced," Chu answered him at length. "When Xing declares war on Amestris, I'm sure there would be plenty of people who would be desperate enough to come to me. I'm sure you, Mr. President, know that it's more than likely to happen. So really, not much harm done even if I lose my collaterals."

Ling paused, trying to think of how to convince his father to return the infected Amestrians back into the country. Winry and Ed, as well as everyone in Auto-Mail that was involved in this fiasco, had worked tremendously hard to be able to locate and possess Chu's collaterals without him knowing. Ling had known that The Collateral was the pillar of every single one of Chu's deals. It was what made XYZ Ltd. the company it was, what made it so formidable. At the same time, to take it away would be to disintegrate the agreement between loaner and client.

Now Chu didn't even seem to mind if he lost them.

Get a grip, Ling told himself. He'd tracked his father's movements for years, as well as his plans and strategies. And there had always been one constant in the flurry of strikes and comebacks. XYZ Ltd. had always been the priority. His father would never jeopardize the condition of his company. And that meant that Chu was just bluffing his way through. Ling had to remain steadfast and not fall for it.

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you," he managed to say. "If a war breaks out between Xing and Amestris, nobody would want to go to you. Everyone will think you're working for the other side."

His father shrugged. "We'll have to see, won't we?"

"Maybe we won't," Ling added. "Maybe King Xiao won't believe that the country that has treated his like a true ally these past few years would suddenly unleash human weapons. Do you really believe that we cannot find a way to pin it all on you? Do you honestly think you're so above the law and the truth that Xiao won't believe us when we tell him everything you have just told us?" Ling laughed. "Don't be absurd! Xiao hates you and is good friends with Grumman. He will not doubt that you are behind all of the chaos."

Chu stared back at him, his expression impenetrable. Ling knew that he was gaining an upper hand. When his father had an advantage, he rarely ever missed the chance to let his opponent know – whether it manifested as cruel barbs or a small snicker and smirk. But a poker face. That meant his father's mind was racing with possibilities, unsure of whether the odds would fall to his favour.

Slowly, Ling pulled his phone out of his pocket, and sent a quick message to Winry to discharge the next twenty collaterals.

"Alright," Ling said. "You have seventy-eight more collaterals you can salvage."

Chu narrowed his eyes. His gaze trailed Ling's phone as he pocketed the gadget again.

"Don't believe me?" Ling asked. He then proceeded to list exactly which twenty he asked to be released, the original owners of those collaterals, the amount of money the owners had loaned from Chu, and when and how Auto-Mail was able to pilfer access to them. Throughout his explanation, Ling watched as Chu's face became stonier and stonier, hardening to desperately hide his displeasure. "Now, like President Grumman said, you have a choice. But let's reframe the situation now. You can wager your luck on hoping that King Xiao would declare war upon his discovery of those poor infected Amestrians, while your precious company bleeds out its lifeblood. Or you can tell your men to bring those ill Amestrians back, you can tell the President where the Red Stones are hiding, and you can still save your company."

Ling waited for his father's reply. There was an infinite stretch of silence that followed his threat, where the only thing Ling could hear was the heavy beating of his heart. Part of him wished Lan Fan was beside him, but another part of him knew that it would have been a bad idea. She would be enraged at the site of Chu, and Chu would only provoke her.

Beside him, Grumman appeared calm but expectant.

Finally, Chu exhaled.

"I want the remaining collaterals returned to me immediately," he stated, and Ling could hardly believe his ears. His father was accepting their offer. "And I want the government to reimburse a certain percentage of the money I lost from the loans you've ruined."

"I accept," Grumman stated.

"And I want full immunity."

Grumman rubbed his chin, thinking deeply about that one. "Immunity from the fact that you almost instigated a war, blackmailed the President, and infected your fellow citizens with a fatal plague?"

Chu nodded. "Full immunity from anything and everything you have just heard from the past hour."

"Done."

With heated anticipation, Ling watched as Henry Chu called his men and ordered them to send back the cargos to Amestris, and that those inside were not to be let out under all circumstances. Before he finished, Grumman instructed him to ask where each of the cargos presently were in Xing, and after the call ended, he asked for Chu's phone, which Chu reluctantly handed over.

When the president had secured the phone in his own pocket, Ling positioned himself away from Chu and away from the window on the farthest side of the room.

It was then that the glass of the window exploded into a thousand shards, and the carpeted floor beside Grumman's feet was violently riddled with successive gunshots. The ledge of the heavy desk behind him splintered into pieces as bullets peppered the sturdy oak.

Ling watched the scene play out with alert steadiness, and Grumman looked serene for someone who was only a few inches away from some of the bullets.

His father on the other hand had cowered behind one of the leather seats, arms shielding his head.

When the gunshots have stopped, he looked up at them with a bewildered expression.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded. "If you're thinking of trying to kill me, you better hire a different gunman!"

The door banged open, and Colonel Mustang, along with Breda, Falman and Havoc, came in bearing guns all pointing in Chu's direction.

"Henry Chu, you are under arrest for attempted murder of President Grumman!" Mustang exclaimed.

Chu looked at them with utter bafflement. His eyes roamed the room where the bullets have lodged. He locked gazes with Grumman for a brief moment, and then settled on Ling.

Ling turned towards the window. There was only one building beyond the hotel, and on the rooftop, he could get a small glimpse of the blonde head of the sniper. Chu had followed his gaze, and upon discovering that the marksman was wearing the Amestrian State Military uniform, he began to put the pieces together.

"You're framing me," he stated.

"You didn't think we'd just let you go, did you?" Ling asked.

"You told the President that you wanted immunity from everything that you've said before," the Colonel remarked. "And true to his words, he pardoned you for that. But you'd be a fool to think we're just going to pretend that nothing happened."

The Colonel approached Chu, and with some struggling, he managed to shackle him with cuffs. Ling expected his father to perhaps put up a fight, go all Xingese-warrior-prince on Mustang, but he didn't. His face was a blatant display of fury, but as he was being led out of the room, he actually smiled at Ling.

"In some odd ways," he called out as Mustang and the rest escorted him. "I'm actually proud to call you my son."

Ling felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and he almost tossed his breakfast.

He looked back out the window where he found Riza gathering her things from the rooftop. She'd been assigned the very task of shooting close to the president so that they could frame Ling's father for attempted murder. It was actually Mustang's idea. He had a hunch that it was going to take a lot of strategic coaxing to get Henry Chu to the police station. He would never have gone willingly, and he would have tried his hardest to bargain for his freedom. This frame-up scenario enabled them to strike a convincing deal with Chu under the pretense that they were being fair, and then arrest him under different circumstances.

Ling let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. It seemed as if everything was working out, especially since they woke up that morning not knowing what Chu would even ask of them. But he knew that he couldn't get his hopes up this early in the game.

And his father's last statement clang to his skin like the murky waters of the sewer where he and Lan Fan first met.

-o-

Lan Fan heard that Chu had been taken to the precinct and was currently under heavy interrogation. Some part of her hoped that he would get hurt, but a soft yet insistent feeling told her that it was not a good thing to wish for. She remembered herself suffering under his hands, and wondered whether it was fair to wish that kind of treatment on another human being, even if said human being had been the cause of her suffering.

Beside her, Ling was antsy. They were all waiting to hear back from the squad of militants who have been deployed to meet Chu's men in Xing and reinforce the protection of Amestrians, both inside and outside of the caravans. Everyone was up to their ears with nerves and impatience, but Ling seemed disconsolate with something else. His head was buried in his hands, and he was slumped against the bench beside her.

Lan Fan slung an arm around his shoulder.

"Ling?" she whispered. "Ling, are you okay? What's wrong?" Lan Fan felt bad that she hadn't been given a significant role in Operation Greed 3.0. She'd been in the hotel, but mostly she waited with the Colonel and his men. She was an emergency manpower, tasked with pursuing Chu should he get away. He didn't. She knew it was better that way, but seeing Ling appear so somber, she wondered if there had been anything she could have contributed in that room.

Ling lifted his head and laid it against the wall.

"My father said he was proud of me," he answered her.

Oh.

Lan Fan didn't quite know what to say after that.

Ling continued, "I've finally outwitted him, and yet... it doesn't feel like the victory I thought it would be."

She rubbed his back. "He probably only said that to throw you off guard. What can I say? The man sure knows where to hit. Don't let him get to you."

"I don't know, I just..."

"Ling," Lan Fan said sternly. "You have not hurt anybody. Not intentionally anyway. I know you're thinking about the people who have been inadvertently involved and harmed by your decisions. But Chu would purposely hurt anyone who gets in his way, and not show one drop of remorse. My grandfather once told me that you can tell much more about a person's character not by the actions that they do, but by the reasons they do them. If you think you're becoming like your father, I would disagree. By a long shot."

Ling smiled at her wryly. "Thanks," he told her.

"To be honest," Lan Fan said. "I'm kind of nervous too. You said that your father didn't put up much of a fight when Colonel Mustang tried to cuff him?"

Ling nodded.

"That's strange," she continued. "Chu never goes along without struggling. I've had him cornered a few times before, and he's always fought his best against me."

"There were six other people in the room," Ling reminded her. "And Lieutenant Hawkeye was stationed right outside where she has a clear aim. Maybe he thought any kind of struggle would be futile."

Lan Fan thought about it for a minute, but the discomfort she felt didn't vanish and it told her one thing. When she looked back at Ling, she could tell that he was about to conclude something similar: there were no maybes when it came to Chu.

Ling swore under his breath. "We should warn the Colonel. They're interrogating him right now. Maybe they could figure out what he's hiding up his sleeve –"

He was interrupted by his phone vibrating, and he shot Lan Fan a look saturated with a sense of impending doom. When he read the message he received, his look only worsened. Lan Fan felt her heart hammer in her chest.

"Winry had received tips from her Auto-Mail informants based in Xing that several people dressed as Amestrian State Militants were seen depositing ill people in cities in the western provinces." Ling buried his head in his hands and began to chant a series of expletives.

"Wait, Ling!" she grabbed him by the shoulder. "I thought you said your father called it off. You made him call it off!"

"He must have been lying! Isn't it clear?" Ling got up and kicked the bench they were sitting on. Several people in the hotel lobby looked their way, but Lan Fan didn't have the energy or the attention to care. Ling grabbed her hand tightly and stormed out of the hotel. "I don't know what he did," he told her along the way. "Maybe it wasn't a real phone call. Maybe he had given specific orders to his men to continue with their plan no matter what. I don't know! But we have dozens of people out there infected with one of the deadliest and most contagious illnesses that has ever swept the face of this continent in the last century, and they have infiltrated cities. Dammit!" he swore again.

"Winry should forward this information to the Colonel," Lan Fan said, her mind racing to try and make sense of their situation. She tried to avoid trains of thoughts that wondered how they could have been so careless again, and that maybe she was an ill omen of some kind that brought disaster to every single one of Ling's plans.

"She already did. The State Militants they sent still have yet to finish crossing the desert. By that time, hundreds of people would have succumbed to the plague already!"

"How quickly do you think Xing can organize a quarantine?" Lan Fan asked.

"They're efficient, but it would still be too late. Hundreds of people might still die." Ling paced back and forth, showing full well how affected he was by feelings of indecision and helplessness.

"Ling..."

"They're dressed as State militants!" he spat. "No wonder my father was sure that Xing would declare a war."

"Don't think about that right now," Lan Fan told him – and to a certain extent, herself as well – as she took a deep, calming breath. "Remember how influential President Grumman is. Let's focus on what we can do. At least with the outbreak, we already know where we need to mobilize our resources, right? That's one of the most crucial information that Chu had withheld from us, when he claimed he didn't know where his men are. Well now we do. Part of the deal that President Grumman had struck with Chu is that he must give us access to the Red Stones, so all we have to do is get the medicine and give it to the people."

Ling stopped dead in his tracks.

"Yes, the Red Stones. You're right." He immediately flashed his phone out again.

"Are you going to ask the Colonel to make your father spit out where he's keeping them?"

"No," Ling answered. "I'm sure the Colonel is doing that as we speak. As for us, we're going to Resembool and meet up with Winry and Ed. We're going to try and get the Red Stones ourselves, once the Colonel has confirmed the location of the stones. If there's anyone who can find the best route, it would be Auto-Mail."

Youswell wasn't that far from Winry and the Elrics' childhood home. It only took more than half an hour by bullet train. When they were walking along the browned pastures of the Resembool fields, Ling received a message from Fuery indicating that Colonel Mustang had made some headway with his father.

"The Red Stones are in Creta," Ling informed her in a tight voice, just as they entered the Rockbells' Auto-Mail abode. They found Winry and Edward firing away missives to various people on the network.

"Did you receive Roy's new message?" Ed asked them when they came in.

"Ed! Don't call the Colonel by his first name!" Winry said, though Lan Fan was surprised to see she was still able to notice and call out Ed's brusqueness, considering her fingers were like a hurricane on her keyboard. "It's rude!"

"Bah!" Ed rolled his eyes. There was a tension in him that mirrored everyone else's mood.

"Yes, we did. It's in Creta, of all places!" Ling moaned. "The place that's still infested with the plague!"

Ed nodded. "But that's as far as Roy's gotten. We don't know where in Creta he hid it. Chu's playing coy, obviously displeased that we've framed him. Why didn't you ask him where the medicine is before the Lieutenant went all Amestrian Sniper on him?"

Ling shrugged. "I don't think it would have mattered in retrospect. He could have just lied like he did when he apparently ordered his men to take back the human cargo."

"Well, good thing you have me!" Winry exclaimed. "You see, I received a service request some weeks ago from a woman whose husband needed passage through the Cretan border. The great big mystery is that she didn't know how he ended up there, but he called her and asked her to arrange for him to be smuggled back. He related that he's been coerced to deliver a package to an abandoned site near the border. He was one among dozens of others. It was there that everyone was killed after drinking some refreshments offered by the man who had led them, although he managed to escape. Sounds fishy, right?"

"Did he identify the leader as Chu?" Ed asked.

Winry shook her head. "No, but I wouldn't be surprised. Sometimes people find themselves working for that sleazy man without recognizing him. Especially when the situation is abrupt and they are threatened. It's happened before."

She opened up a document outlining the service request for Auto-Mail. She retrieved the contact information and called the client. While she talked, she wrote down notes on a pad, and then showed it to them once she finished the phone call.

"These are the rough guidelines that the man remembered from his journey there. He's in the Quarantine Facility now so he won't be much help to us other than this."

"But this is still a big problem!" Ed reminded them. "Yes, suppose that we can smuggle someone across the border; that's never been a problem with Auto-Mail. But who would willingly go to Creta where the chances of catching the plague are still relatively high? I mean, I'm sure it's not the same hell-hole it was before, but you have to admit, there's still some risk."

"Well, wouldn't it be any consolation that whoever this person is would also retrieve the medicine? That sort of mitigates the risk a little," Ling answered. "They can just cure themselves."

In a fit of impulsiveness, Lan Fan volunteered. "I'll do it!"

They all looked at her.

"Medicine or no, I think I should be the one to go," she explained. "When Chu had experimented with the Red Stones on Grandpa and me... the Cretan plague was one of the maladies he tested." She paused before admitting, "I'm immune to it now. I mean, I'm really not sure how it happened or why; I've said before that the Red Stone wasn't that stable when it came to curing illnesses. Sometimes it doesn't work so well, and other times it goes overboard. But in my case... I guess I turned out lucky."

Ling frowned at her. "Are you certain about this?"

"The doctors who were with me performed several iterations of the plague. After a while, I stopped getting sick from it." Lan Fan had remembered that period of time particularly well, because Chu had been very, very pleased when he had heard that the developments on the Red Stone enabled it to cure the epidemic. "Look, what I'm certain about is that asking someone else to take the Red Stones from Creta would be inhumane when you already have me," Lan Fan said seriously. "Now you can risk someone's health and bet that the Red Stone would have no side effects on them like it did on my Grandpa. Or you can send me, and I will assure you that I'll be okay."

She watched as the three friends glanced at one another. Finally, Winry nodded.

"Okay," she handed Lan Fan the note pad. "Here are the directions."

AN: GAH, you guys have no idea how difficult it was to get through this chapter. It was hard for several reasons. One is that I've finally moved, so lots of interruptions and lots of changes in my routine. For the past few weeks it's been difficult for me to find the time to write. My commute is now 3 hours a day, bordering on 4 sometimes. sigh

Another reason is that there's just too many political maneuvering in this chapter. Too many chess moves. It made my head ache. If it's confusing to you guys, let me know. Chances are, I'm as confused as you, lol. But I'll try my best to explain what I wanted to achieve. (The problem is exacerbated by the fact that on my outline, Part 3 of the story was just this monolithic thing, so I didn't know how to split it all up into chapters.) On a related note, this chapter is filled with dialogue. Every move being made is through words, not actions, so I had to make sure everyone said the right things.

That said, the next 2 chapters would be action-filled as opposed to talk, talk, talk. I'm actually so relieved to have gotten over this chapter because the real excitement begins after this. I'm excited because I've been waiting to write a LingFan kiss for some time now, and it's gonna happen soon, yay! And it's gonna happen when it's least expected, which is even better, yay! Hehe.